


New Vice

by Marmarhargreeves



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Addiction, Depersonalization, Derealization, Gen, Good Brother Diego Hargreeves, Graphic Description, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 00:59:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18084356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marmarhargreeves/pseuds/Marmarhargreeves
Summary: Klaus had been sober for five months. He had been doing well. But he wasn't, not really.





	New Vice

**Author's Note:**

> TW: very graphic descriptions of self harm as well as descriptions of DPDR  
> this is another angst vent fic. I hope you’re all well and safe. you’re not alone in this.   
> Please read with caution

Klaus had been sober for five months now. This in of itself was a huge accomplishment. He hadn’t been sober longer than two weeks at a time since he smoked his first joint at 13. The family was proud of him - he knew that. They told him everyday after all. 

They’re all making an attempt to be supportive of each other. They were recognizing each other’s progress. Vanya was getting better at controlling herself, Klaus was sober, Ben was able to be an actual person again, Five was discovering who he is, Allison didn’t rely on her power anymore and she had accepted her lack of voice, Diego was opening up. Hell, even Luther was making an attempt to grow.

But Klaus had a secret. His secret was hidden underneath his leather jeans, right on top of his thighs. He had hundreds of them in fact. He’s had this secret since he was 13 also, but it didn’t resurface until well, five months ago. 

He found solace at 2 AM, tucked away in his bathroom. Ben always respected his privacy in the bathroom unless Klaus gave him reason not to. But he’s been sober so long that he earned Ben’s trust.   
Just because he was able to control all of the voices much better than he had before didn’t mean he was able to control his own. In fact his own voice had never been so loud in his head before. 

Klaus silently got up almost like clockwork, glancing at the clock as he did so. “2:16” stared back at him in bright red numbers. He felt the deep seated uncomfortable feeling as he always did. It was always amplified at night when the house was completely still. 

Klaus was crawling out of his skin. He felt wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. He wasn’t real, wasn’t present. None of this was. He looked at his hands and was hardly able to recognize his flesh. He had a sinking feeling deep in his chest. Nothing felt right. He didn’t feel right. All wrong. Everything felt off, almost slightly to the left. Everything was happening too fast but nothing was happening at all. It was overwhelming. He was drowning. 

He made his way to the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light. Diego had put nightlights in every socket of his room when they were kids, not that he ever admitted it. He was the only one who knew he was scared of the dark.   
The world was dimly lit, just enough for him to see what he needed to see. He carefully reached in the bottom drawer of the bathroom counter. He felt around until he felt the soft velvet bag and pulled it out carefully not to make a single sound. 

He briefly admired the red bag in his hand, slipping the blades through his fingers. This had been his only comfort, his only vice, when his body and brain weren’t fully aligned with one another. 

He sat down on the toilet and lifted his shorts to his hips, tucking them so his upper thighs were visible. His milky white skin was littered with both straight and jagged lines. There was a collection of white, pink, red, and purple that covered what was once just a few small, white lines. He couldn’t remember which scar belonged to what day anymore. 

He took a blade out from the bag and placed it strategically along his upper thigh close to his hip. He took a sharp inhale and swiped. 

Instant relief. He did it again, then three times. His body focused on the throbbing, feeling some sort of life come back to him. He did it one more time, this one being the deepest one. He felt the warm blood trickle down his thigh and into the floor. He relished in this feeling. He was finally feeling. 

Klaus didn’t hear his door open, didn’t hear the footsteps. 

“Klaus?” The voice whispered, knocking him out of his trance. He didn’t have time to move before the bathroom door swung open and he was making eye contact with his vigilante brother. 

“Klaus we need to talk about Five, where are y-“ Diego stopped dead in his tracks, eyeing the scene in front of him. His mouth was open, the syllable of “you” on his lips. He couldn’t register what his eyes were seeing. 

There sat his brother, his legs covered and blood on his hands. His brother was hurt. He hurt himself. He’s been hurting himself. He’s been hurting himself for a long time. 

Klaus didn’t say a word; he couldn’t find his voice. How was this happening? Why hadn’t he locked the door? He was kicking himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid....

“No, n-no no you’re not.” Diego took a few steps and kneeled in front of his brother, softly lifting the toilet paper. Had he been saying that out loud? He couldn’t tell anymore. 

Diego’s breath hitched at his brothers wounds. He was no stranger to flesh wounds but this? He couldn’t imagine doing this. 

“Let’s c-clean this up.” Diego cleared his throat trying to regain his composure. He had to be strong for Klaus, he needed to be there for him. 

Klaus silently watched Diego as he fumbled around the cabinets until he found some first aid materials. He wet some toilet paper and replaced the one that he already had on his leg. He gently wiped away the blood, some already dry. Diego’s vision blurred as he got a closer look at Klaus’ legs. There were just so many scars. The amount of pain he would have to be in to do something like this? And how did he fail to notice? How could he have failed his brother again?

“Diego.” Klaus said so quietly he barely picked it up. 

“We don’t have to t-talk about this now, okay? Let’s get y-y-you cleaned up and in bed, a-alright?” Diego insisted and blinked away the tears, letting them fall. He poured some Neosporin on the wounds and placing a large bandage gently on top. 

“Look at me, please.” Klaus pleaded and put his hand on top his Diego’s shaking ones. 

Diego finally looked up and met eyes with Klaus’ also wet ones. There was so much he wanted to say, wanted to ask. He wanted to apologize for not being there, for being so ignorant. 

“It’s not your fault. I just,” Klaus gave a small smile, “I just need a way again. To feel.” He made it sound so simple - so logical. It wasn’t that easy though. 

“P-please Klaus. Come to me, to Be-Ben. To any of us. We love you so m-much.” Diego pulled his brother close and Klaus quickly tucked his head under Diego’s chin, pulling the two of them closer. 

Diego felt his brother start to shake, finally letting out the sobs he had been holding back.   
“I’m here, I-I’m here Klaus.” He ran his hand through Klaus’ curls, an old move that he would use to soothe his brother when he had nightmares. 

“Don’t leave, p-please.” Klaus choked out. He scrunched the back of Diego’s shirt in his fists, his face buried in his brothers chest. 

“I’m not go-going anywhere. Never.”


End file.
